


Six Feet Under Me

by Prototype



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gay Love, M/M, Self Loathing, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prototype/pseuds/Prototype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who would ever love a man as useless and pathetic as you, Toro? Sometimes we blind ourselves from the truth right in front of us.<br/>You might be ugly, but you're beautiful to him. </p><p>Pure unrelenting angst ridden smut. Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Feet Under Me

 

**Six Feet Under Me**

 

_“You’re just a joke, Toro,”_

Yeah, that’s what they say to me, that’s what they said and I tried to believe it. I’m nothing but a joke, a punchline, a fucking knock knock pun. The kind you lay your fist into it, knock down and knock out. I’m the joker, the fool, the clown and I never wanted to be. I don’t fit this way. It’s like there’s a mask someone’s sewn onto the skin around my face, like they couldn’t bear the sight of me. 

 

Maybe it was Mom, maybe Dad.

 

Maybe it was the doctors when they slapped me home, wet, cold, naked and squealing like a worm before the bird. 

 

Wriggling weakly in rubber coated grasp. 

 

I don’t know, it could have been anyone, it’s not like I had any opinion for the first few years of existence. I didn’t have a choice as a conceived foetus, as a spawned baby, a small child playing by himself in the back garden. Crushing snails beneath my giant feet. 

 

_“You’re just a fucking loser,”_

 

Probably. 

 

I’ve never competed for anything in my life, I’ve never fought anyone for anything. I always know I’ll lose. I’m a bit useless really. Tall, stocky, my hands are oafish and my feet always trip me up. A head full of air and a mind to match. Useless to everyone around me. Except to point, laugh, shake your head and walk away. 

 

_“You’re disgusting,”_

 

I know I’m repulsive, I know I’m nothing good to look up. That’s not really my fault, in my defence. I’ve tried my best to be in the middle, not gorgeous like my fellow guitar, or my vocalist, or even our beautiful drummer. And not any more disgusting as to bring us down. Oh no, couldn’t do that. So here I am – plain, simple, boring Ray Toro. 

 

_“You’re nothing at all, you’re just useless,”_

 

I guess that’s wrong, but I’d never dream of disagreeing. I can play, I can play to hell and back, but no one’s watching me, they’re listening. Which they should, no one should ever watch me. So, my fingers are good, but me? I’m not. I’m a walking freak. A loser. 

 

I’ve grown to accept that fact, I’m happy in my own way. I know I mean nothing to no one and nothing. Even my parents wouldn’t care if I never came home, I’m used to being alone. I’m used to being unloved. 

 

And I’ve come to love it in return. 

 

_“Admit it, Toro, you’re just-“_

 

“Ray, wake up, snap out of it,”

 

I open my eyes quickly, blinking away the blurry fuzz of sleep. I’m no longer standing, I’m lying down. I’m wearing only my jeans and a black vest. I’m crushed into my bunk and all I can see in the fake wood grain of the bunk above me, Mikey’s. My face is stippled with sweat, my breath coming in short gasps. If it had been cold in the bus, my breath would have disappeared into little droplets of mist. Instead, it was warm, humid, and my panting didn’t help my temperature. 

 

Blinking in the semi-darkness, I looked to my side, found Bob’s eyes looking at me. I sighed, reaching up to rub my eyes. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of my face as I tried to sit up, but I felt Bob’s hand rest on my warm shoulder, his hot digits almost stinging. 

 

“Don’t bother,” he said. I couldn’t see him very well, it was too dark. I could hear Frank snoring in the bunk opposite mine, Mikey and Gerard playing video games in the main area. Ever so often, I’d hear Mikey giggle in triumph, Gerard swear under his breath. I sighed again.  

 

“You ok?” asked Bob, I’d forgotten he was there. I looked at him again, I could see the outline of his head, his hair gently curling over his face, and the tiny glint of blue in his eyes. 

 

“I’m fine,” I said quickly. He kept looking at me, kneeling next to my bunk. 

 

“You sure?” he asked, unconvinced. I shrugged, trying to sit up again, his hand still resting on my shoulder. 

 

“I guess…”

 

“Ray, you were swearing in your sleep…at yourself,” he said, and I could tell he had raised an eyebrow. I flushed in the darkness. 

 

“Bad dream, I guess,” I muttered, feeling heat roll off me in waves. Bob hmphed. I felt his hand reach up, stroke my forehead. I froze at his touch, it was so hot compared to my skin. 

 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked gently. His tenderness took my by surprise. 

 

“No,” I said sharply. Bob’s touch flinched away from me, as my sharpness made Frank mutter in his sleep. 

 

“Wassa matter?” he asked sleepily, sitting up and yawning. Shit. 

 

“Nevermind, sorry Frank, go back to sleep,” I said, feeling bad I’d woken him up when he needed his sleep more than the rest of us. 

 

“Go talk in the studio,” he said crossly, turning back to the wall and pulling the covers over his shoulders. I sighed and shook my head. 

 

“No worries, I’m fine, sorry,”

 

Bob pulled on my wrist, standing up. 

 

“Come on, get out,” he said, pulling me half out of the bunk. I sighed, Bob wasn’t letting go of my wrist. I moodily sat up and swung my legs out of the bunk, getting out of it and letting him pull me into the sound proofed studio we’d built into the very back of the bus. 

 

“Look, Bob, I don’t –“

 

“Shut up, sit down,” he said firmly, brushing aside my weak effort to keep myself to myself. He sat down next to me, curling his legs under him and turning towards me – keeping his big blue eyes fixed on me. 

 

“What?” I asked after about a minute of him staring at me, waiting for me to say something, anything. “You did tell me to shut up,” I pointed out. I found a smirk come to my face – another chip of the mask. Bob smirked as well. 

 

“Don’t be a dick, Ray. What the fuck’s up with you?” he asked, softly. I averted my eyes, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know anyone, let alone Bob, had noticed everything was ‘up’ with me. I tried not to show my internal monologue on the outside: the anguish and the self loathing, to sound overdramatic. 

 

I shrugged, picking at a loose demin strand coming from a rip on the thigh of my jeans.

 

“Nothing, I guess,” I said, not sure what to tell him. I didn’t want to tell him the truth – not him, my closest, best friend. I didn’t want him to know the uselessness I felt. I felt his hand on my arm, the reassuring touch making my face flame up again. I hated the way contact between us made me feel, on edge, scared, breathless, exhilarated. For some reason, I remembered back to when I was about 15 – I used to love watching the girl across the road wash her dad’s car in the summer, every Saturday morning. She’d play loud punk pop and dance around in her cut-offs and t shirt, singing and soaping up the car’s surface. I remembered how whenever my parents dragged me over to her family’s for barbeques, she and I would sit awkwardly on the couch – I never built up the courage to talk to her properly, I was too busy trying not to think of the way her breasts pushed up against the window when she stood on tiptoes to wash the roof, or the wiggle of her hips as she danced around with the hose. 

For some bizarre reasons, she never aroused me, even covered in soap and dripping wet. I remember watching her and thinking how beautiful she was, but she never…turned me on, I guess. And when I met her, I felt embarrassed that I watched her but didn’t want her. It seemed pervier than simply lusting after her. 

 

I felt a similar sort of embarrassment when Bob touched me, except worse. Far, far worse. Guilty that his touch made me warmer inside than I’d ever felt. 

 

“It’s ok,” he whispered. His fingers squeezed my arm. “You can talk to me,” 

 

I shook my head. 

 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said firmly. Frank made another irritated moan from outside. 

 

“Shut the bloody door,” he moaned, and I cringed, clicking the door shut with my foot. I looked around and from Bob’s steady gaze still watching me. 

 

“Bob, please-“

 

“Please what? Stop caring?” he asked, almost aggressively. I bit my lip. 

 

“There’s nothing wrong,” I said firmly, crossing my arms and staring at my feet. 

 

“Bullshit!” he cried, suddenly jumping up and wringing his arms, shaking his head. “You’re such a liar, Ray Toro! I’ve seen you, I’ve watched you drag your arse through all these tours and shows and I can see it – you used to be happy, at first, you were the happiest motherfucker I’d ever met! You were quiet and reserved, but you were fucking happy! You smiled and made jokes and played video games and played the shit out of your guitar like there was nothing better and you were happy, but now! Now you just move around like you’ve got nothing to live for, like someone just hollowed you out or something, you look like a man who knows when he’s gonna die or something and it fucking kills me to see my best, _best_ friend walk around like he couldn’t care in the least! Do have any idea how much it pisses me off to see you so…depressed? How much it kills me that nothing makes you happy even more…even me,” he finished, looking at me with his big, blue eyes. He looked so tragic, so human, I couldn’t help but stand up and wrap my arms around me, pulling him into a hug. 

 

“You do make me happy,” I whispered. 

 

Maybe that was the problem with me. Only he made me happy. 

 

He was shaking his head, his hands twitching to cup my shoulders, clinging to me. I heard a quick sob, he was trying not to cry. Suddenly it felt as if someone had stuck a needle under my ribs, and was sucking all the air out of my lungs. I felt heat prick the corner of each eyeball. It was bad enough I was draining myself, now I was hurting Bob. My Bob. 

 

“Don’t cry,” I whispered, hugging him closer. He shuddered, his face buried in my shoulder. 

 

“You don’t understand,” he whispered. “It’s killing me seeing you like this…I love you too much,” he told me gently, turning his face away from me. I held him so much tighter, my chest straining with emotion. 

 

“I know, I love you too, please don’t cry for me, Bob, I’m fine, I am,” I told him, still lying. He pushed me back roughly, back down onto the couch and glared at me. His eyes were narrowed and red rimmed, his fists clenched. 

 

“Don’t even think of lying to me, Toro, I know you’re fucked up – why won’t you just admit it?”

 

_Admit it, Toro, you’re a-_

 

“I don’t care what you think’s wrong, I don’t care if you think I won’t understand, I love you too much to let that stop you being happy,” he said, gritting his teeth. I sat up, reaching for his wrists, trying to calm him down. 

 

“Bob, please-“

 

“No, I won’t calm down, I’m always the calm one, the quiet one, the one in control – but I refuse this time. I love you, Ray, don’t you get that? This isn’t fair on either of us,” he said angrily. I tried to stand up, but he wouldn’t let me, pushing me back down onto the sofa. 

 

“Bob, I love you but-“

 

“No, you don’t, you don’t get it – I fucking love you, Ray Toro. You. I am in love with you,” he said, his gaze so steady and his voice so level, my jaw dropped. He was being serious, not platonic. 

 

“W-what?” I stammered. 

 

“I’m in love with you and it’s fucking killing me! I’ve spent years trying to show you, to find out if you felt the same, but you’re so fucking blinded by your own shit you don’t see the damage you’re doing to those closest to you – to me! I’m so in love with you it hurts!” he cried, throwing up his hands and turning away. He couldn’t go far in the tiny box, but he still faced away from me, hanging his head. The tension is his back knotted his shoulders, his frame heaving with emotion. I rose to my feet. 

 

“How can you be in love with me?” I asked in a quiet voice, still lost in the screams of my own disbelief – no one could love me, no one could even notice me besides pointing, laughing, scorning. There was a silence, as Bob turned back to me. He looked so anxious now, so unsure of himself. 

 

“How could I not be? You’re beautiful…and so talented and nice and kind and…I’ve always been in love with you,” he said gently, looking down. The voice inside my head was screaming dismissals at me – he’s lying, he wants to hurt you, you’re nothing, pathetic, worthless, _nothing_!

 

“B-but…I’m…useless,” I said, shock still washing through me, my fingertips tingling. I couldn’t’ feel anything, my head was too full of alarms to let anything else register. Bob’s eyes darted up, his body starting towards me. 

 

“No! You’re not, you’re everything to me,”

 

My knees buckled, my butt hitting the couch hard. Those little words hit me and wriggled under my skin like worms, eating away at the self doubt, the crippling insecurity that lay curled up at the bottom of my stomach, filling me with sickening paranoias every day of my life. I felt the couch move as Bob sat down next to me. 

 

“Ray…what is it? What is it that’s doing this to you? Talk to me,” he implored, his hands touching mine, caressing my palm, his fingers netting through mine. Every touch set electric pulses to my brain: wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

 

Dimly, like a patient coming around from anaesthetic, I looked up into his eyes. My jaw hung open. 

 

“How can you…love me? How am I anything? I’m nothing, I’m nothing,” I said, shaking my head, unable to believe the words he was telling me. He was shaking his head, his hand moving up my arm, stroking my skin, comforting, loving, tenderness from every touch as he reached the side of my neck, cupping the base of my skull. I didn’t want him to stop, his movements were so gentle, so adoring, it made me warm inside, from him. 

 

“Is that what you really think?” he asked me, his thumb caressing the skin on the side of my neck, making my breath shorten. I nodded gently, closing my eyes. 

 

“You’re wrong – you’re everything, you’re my everything,” he whispered, his touch melting the coldness inside me. I opened my eyes, tears pricking the corners. 

 

“You mean it? You love me?” I asked him. Love. To be loved, wanted. It was a huge step away from people treating me as a joke, just the guitarist. The big, afro haired, goofy guitarist who eats crayons and puts his hands in cupcakes. Oh yeah. Bob looked like he couldn’t smile anymore, physically couldn’t get his skull to manage it. He was nodding. 

 

“Yeah, I really do. You’re everything to me, Ray,” he whispered, his fingers in my hair, tangling it gently. I closed my eyes again, gulping, feeling the hungry emotions dancing through my veins, the liquid excitement. In one fluid motion, I leant forward, my hand capturing the side of his head. My wrist stroked his cheek, feeling the stubble, which only made the kiss I pushed against his lips hungrier. 

 

He parted his lips eagerly, his hands in my hair, pulling my head closer to his, his tongue pushing itself into my mouth, parting my lips. I moaned as he passionately kissed me, his tongue fighting mine for dominance between us. The tip of his darted across my lips, teasing me. I bit down on his bottom lip gently, dragging it out, successfully making him groan in lust. 

 

My hands went to his waist, pulling him closer to me, closing the gap between our bodies. I felt the sweat on his skin, the anxious fear shed across his frame at telling me he loved me. He _loved_  me. I couldn’t believe it. 

 

“Oh Ray…” he moaned, as I gripped his hips hard and pulled him onto my lap, moving his legs either side of my hips and breaking our mind blowing kiss to his neck, biting, sucking, fucking almost ripping the skin to quiet my frantic words of love. I love him for giving me this, for giving me this feeling of complete joy. I loved him, I always had. His hands travelled down my muscled arms, fingers flexing over my straining muscles, his hips digging into me. 

 

I had to stop then, my lips still attached to his neck, closing my eyes and moaning, eyes rolling back at the sensations building in my crotch – oh my God, he was so hard right now, he was bulging! My eyes widened, my breath shortening. I’d be lying if I hadn’t said I’d thought about this – not just in the past few minutes of passionate kissing, but the years I’d known Bob, known the secret devotion I’d given him as someone closer to me than any girlfriend could ever have been. The nights I’d laid in bed, watching him sleep and wondering what it’d feel like to lie next to him, smell him, taste him. Fuck him. 

 

And here he was, sitting astride me, clinging to my neck and moaning like a bitch on heat – and as hard as a rock. 

 

“Fuck, Bob,” I moaned, grabbing him even harder and pulling him down onto me, kissing him so hungrily I almost hurt him, my tongue pushing roughly against his, my teeth biting his lips, sucking his mouth hungrily. He moaned again, squeezing me hard, rocking his hips into me, making me gasp into his mouth. 

 

“Too…many…clothes,” he moaned in-between fierce kisses, hands moving down my arms again, gripping me at my elbows, squeezing my upper arm muscles. I broke the kiss, leaning my forehead against his, gazing into his clear blues. 

 

“Then why don’t we do something about that?” I said in a low growl, my hands resting on his hips, my fingernails digging the harsh demin of his jeans, holding his hips hard against my own groin – an area which was beginning to heat up with all this friction, pumping fresh excited blood. His grin only made me bulge harder against my zipper, biting my tongue to keep my moans inside. 

 

This time, when he lent forward to kiss me, it was so soft and gentle and sweet, it made my head reel like dizziness. This was love, this was everything I was lacking – he made me feel special, wanted, loved! Butterflies exploded in my chest, my stomach uncoiling as his fingers moved across my arms and shoulders. Without bidding, my hands moved up his body from his hips, under the black material of his shirt. He jumped ever so slightly as my fingertips grazed the warm flesh of his waist, sitting up straight and breathing deeply. His eyes fluttered closed, his jaw hung open as my hands ghosted up his chest, tickling so deeply he was paralysed by my touch. 

 

“Raaaaaay…” he moaned, his head rolling in tiny circles on his spine, fingers digging into my neck, little pants coming forward with each hot heavy breath. My hands reached his upper chest, thumbs meeting his nipples just as his head lolled backwards, mouth open as a moan of the deepest, most heated lust came rumbling from his gorgeous pale throat. 

 

I leant forward gently, my teeth fastening around that pale bulge of his Adam’s apple, jolting him and making his moans dirtier, laced with desire. 

 

“Fuck…” he moaned as I bit and sucked his throat softly, my thumbs circling and massaging his nipples. Softly at first, soft and grazing, sending waves of pleasure through him, transmitted through every squeeze of his thighs over my crotch. Goosebumps rose on his torso as I blew cool air over his bitten neck, down the open v of chest from his shirt. 

 

“What do you want?” I growled, pressing a kiss to the soft hollow of flesh at the base of his neck, directly in between his collarbones. His head rolled back, his eyes lazily opening. 

 

“Kiss me,” he demanded, grip tightening on my skin. “Undress me,”

 

“Anything for you,” I whispered, pushing my lips against his again, my hands trailing back down his stomach. Fingers latched briefly on his belt, digging under his waistband, making him jump; bite down hard on my lip. I grinned as his tongue lapped across it, keeping the kiss hot and fevered as my fingers traced the buttons of his shirt, teasing them free as I bucked my hips under him in time to his rocking, building up the tension between our bodies again.

 

Faster, harder, pulling at his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, down his arms. Running my hands over the hot exposed flesh of his muscular arms, drummer arms. I moved my kiss to his shoulder, biting gently, sucking the marks and trailing down his arm to his hand. I placed a soft kiss on his wrist, opening my eyes to find him watching me with the flirtiest, kinkiest look ever possible. I grinned wickedly, keeping the contact between our eyes laced with electricity as I trailed my tongue down his palm, down his middle finger, before taking his first two digits into the hot, wet cavern of my mouth. I sucked them hard and long, keeping eye contact with Bob throughout, watching lust filled his eyes, watching him moan as my other hand moved to his nipple again, kneading it gently. As soon as his eyes fluttered shut, lost in drunken pleasure, I nipped the tips and pulled him back down into me. My hands lifted him up, off my crotch, the space making us moan from the loss of pressure. 

 

“Ray,” he growled, standing in front of me, my hands holding his hips hard. I shushed him, standing up briefly to kiss his lips shut. 

 

“Shh,” I whispered, smiling filthily. “Don’t say a word,” I told him as I sat back down, thrusting my long legs in between his legs, nudging them apart. His hands rested on my shoulders, his entire body shaking from pleasure. One hand gripped his hip steady, stopping him sinking back onto me, the other moved down his thigh, to where our legs met. Then, slowly, tantalisingly slowly, I trailed my fingertips up his inner thigh. 

 

His gasps told me he felt my movement, the light touch just reaching his skin and dancing with sensation as I traced slowly, teasing him. His pants got higher and higher, his chest tightening as my hand reached the join of his jeans, just under his crotch. I smiled as his nails dug roughly into my shoulder, bunching my vest between his fingers. 

 

“F-fuck fuck fuck,” he panted. I shushed him again, moving my hand away. “No!” he gasped, his body jerking towards me. I laughed softly, placing my hand back on his leg, leaning forward to place a loving kiss on the line of muscle of his stomach, just above his bellybutton. 

 

The cruel man in me giggled as my traced my hand ever so lightly over the straining demin, earning tiny gasps from my lover, and reached his waistband. I ran my thumb roughly across the skin escaping the confines of his jeans, my nail dragging the skin roughly and making him moan. I hissed as his grip drew blood. 

 

“Tell me you love me,” I whispered, pressing my lips against his stomach, moving my kisses lower and lower, my hand moving to his belt buckle. 

 

“I fucking love you!” he panted, his chest heaving with his breaths. I smiled. 

 

“I love you,” I whispered against him, running my tongue across the waistband, tasting the skin of his stomach. He moaned again, every moan was hot enough to make me want to come right in my pants, but I held it. 

 

There was far too much to enjoy soon to waste myself just yet. 

 

For the man I loved, my everything. 

 

My fingers moved quickly to pull his belt free of the buckle, pulling the leather free of the loops, snapping it gently. My tongue swirled into his bellybutton as I flicked the button out of the hole, a jolt running through both our bodies. With my hand on his hip, I pulled him closer to me. Gripping his zipper in my teeth I dragged it down over the bulging silk of his boxers, moaning as his warmth rolled into me. I could smell his pre cum staining his boxers, the liquid lust he saved just for me. 

 

Quickly, forcefully, I grabbed down sides of his jeans and pulled them down roughly – Bob cried out as my hands pulled them free, pushing them down his legs as far as they would go, my hands moving back up to cup his arse. 

 

“Oh Raaaay!” he growled, I loved the way he moaned my name, dragging the poison syllable out like his tongue couldn’t get over the taste of my name on it. I grinned, my teeth nipping at the skin of his hipbones. “Stop teasing me!” he gasped, hands moving to my hair, digging into the back of my skull. I giggled, I was enjoying this so much, this was filling the dark hole of boredom and nothingness inside me. This was everything now. 

 

Instead of replying, my hands traced back up to the top of his boxers, hooking the band and pulling them down. The material snagged the tip of his member, sticky liquid leaking from it. Freed, to the cool air, Bob moaned and panted like a bitch, holding onto me in case he simply fell over. I held him fast, just staring. 

 

“Oh…wow…” I whispered, admiring his wonderful cock. I looked up and found his eyes half open, watching me. “You’re very impressive, babe,” I grinned, licking my lips, thumbs digging into the fleshy skin just under his hipbones, scratching deep itches whilst tickling deeper ones. He cocked a grin, hands tensing against me. 

 

“Thanks…are you going to taste me, or just stare?” he asked, his voice low, husky, breathless. I smiled wider. 

 

“Either, both,” I whispered, before leaning forward again, cooling cool air right on the tip of his member. He moaned, closing his eyes, that gorgeous organ flexing as he tensed. I smiled, ducking my head to draw level with the base. Slowly, relishing the taste, I dragged my tongue up the sensitive line of his penis – pushing against it and digging my nails in, equalling the pressure his gripped me with. 

 

He moaned, he groaned, he just sighed like a wild beast as I licked and kissed his member gently, teasing and tasting, enjoying and growing familiar. I felt like this was the first time I’d ever felt this attracted to anyone, anything in my entire life. My body burnt for Bob, my crotch straining, my skin screaming for him. Unable to stand this, I cupped my lips around the tip of his member, swirling my tongue roughly against his slit, tasting the salty pre cum. 

 

“Fuck!” yelped Bob, rocking his body into me, pushing his cock further into my mouth. My anxious lover, begging for me. I smiled, running my tongue over the smooth skin, sucking hard on the tip. I milked him hard, my hand moving to the base of his impressive dick, stroking, caressing, tickling the skin and his balls – making him pant my name as I moved my head in that clichéd, beautiful rhythm of sex and lust and love. I took as much as I could into my mouth, sucking so hard my mouth screamed in protest, but I felt too good to listen. I had Bob, I had someone to love, someone who loved me. 

 

He told me with every ragged breath. 

 

I built speed, holding his hips steady as I pushed my head back and forward, sucking on his pulsing member until I felt him begin to build too high – too hot. I knew what was coming, I felt my pulse quicken as he began to pant, leaning forward, holding onto me as his body rocked into me, skin sweating. At exactly the right moment I nipped his tip with my teeth, before opening up to receive my prize, his stunningly forceful, explosive and loud climax into my mouth. His taste filled me up in more ways than one as he released, gripping me hard, crying out. 

 

Thank God it was soundproofed, his breathy cries of pleasure were loud and impossible to mistake for anything else. Heat filled my skin as I leant back, exhausted and satisfied, licking my lips as Bob opened his eyes. He looked shocked at how hard he had come – he looked happy. Instantly he sat down on my lap and kissed me, his tongue mingling with mine, his taste shared. My hands travelled again, pushing his shirt free from his wrists, throwing up away, moving down his rippled back to his perfect arse. I squeezed gently, before threading his jeans all the way down his legs and throwing them to join his shirt. He was left to me, naked and beautiful. 

 

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his skin wet, his voice strained. I grinned and kissed him again, running my tongue all over his. 

 

“I love you, so much more,” I told him, pushing his body to the side, down onto the couch. The leather complained, skin sticking, sweat causing friction. Instead we manoeuvred to the floor, Bob’s naked body under me as I straddled him and kissed him, my body propped up on arms either side of his head. My hair stroked his cheeks as I kissed him sweetly, he was drained but still filled of lust. 

 

He broke our kiss, just looking at me. His eyes were so soft, gentle. His lips curved. 

 

“I love you so much…I can’t believe I finally have you…” he whispered, his fingers reaching up to stroke the side of my face. I smiled, twisting my head to kiss his palm. 

 

“Why…why do you love me?” I asked, curious. No matter how hard I was, no matter how much I simply wanted to make love to Bob until dawn, I had to know. He smiled, stroking me gently. 

 

“You’re just so sweet and awkward…you feel uncomfortable at parties, you are your own party inside your head – you don’t need anyone around…you’re the hardest working person I know, you are so dedicated, so driven,” he sighed, sucking his lips. “Ooo, it’s such a turn on to see you focus on nothing but your screen, the same way I wish you’d focus on me…like you did just then…” he grinned. I smiled, blushing. 

 

“First blowjob,” I shrugged, with difficulty, being above him. 

 

“You were amazing,” he whispered, and I believed him, he was so weak from his climax, he seemed so vulnerable and honest. I loved him even more then. 

 

“I love your smile, because when you did smile, it was real,” he continued, his fingers tracing my lips. “I love your hair…because it’s just so amazing,” he giggled, reaching up to touch the fro. I blushed again. “I love your power and commitment onstage, it’s the only time you seem to come alive. I love your arms…oh, I love your arms,” he growled, twisting to lean and kiss the muscle of my arm, bulging from holding me up off the ground. He continued to kiss it, making little noises of sexual satisfaction, his fingers squeezing my skin. 

 

Slowly, I lowered myself down, onto my side as Bob caressed my arms, running his hands over my shoulders and forearms, just adoring them. 

 

“I love you so, so much, Ray Toro,” he whispered, holding my hand against his cheek. I gazed at him. There weren’t word strong enough to describe this. He pulled me onto my back, sitting back over my hips, grinding again. The pressure came back so forcefully I grunted, jerking upwards into a sitting position – our lips crashing together so hard it almost hurt.

 

But it hurt more to stop. 

 

I gripped his arse as his hands went to the neckline of my tight black vest. He grabbed and pulled, the material ripping pointlessly away from my chest – his movements growing hotter and faster, my breath grew short. His teeth attacked my neck, pulling my hair aside and sucking so hard I hit the floor again, moaning his name like a whore. I couldn’t hear the breathy pants, the cries over the beating of my heart in my ears, the sounds of love from Bob’s lips on my skin, biting and sucking. He marked me as his own so many times I didn’t know how the hell I would ever cover them all up. 

 

If I even bothered. 

 

I was his now. Bob’s. My lover. 

 

His kisses trailed down my chest, hands smoothing over the muscles of my ribs and stomach, grazing my nipples, my arms, touching, kissing, loving every part of me until I was dizzy and speechless with pleasure. I knew this was right, it had never felt this good. I felt his fingers dig into my ribs, making me jolt and I hardly felt him tear at my jeans, unzipping me with a furious passion completely unlike the gentle teasing I tortured him with. 

 

He pulled my jeans down my legs, kissing lines down my thighs softly as he freed me and left my boxers to strain, the tent looking ridiculous as I watched him trail his tongue back up my sweating, hot body. His lips crashed against mine again, our bodies held tightly together, jigsaw puzzle pieces in perfect unison. My body bucked under him, his rubbing against mine, blinding me with pleasure. My boxers got lost in the grinding of our hips, our hard members grating in a joining of slicked, sensitive skin. I moaned and kissed him to silence myself from screaming something stupid, biting down hard as his hand snaked between us, grabbing me so hard I stop breathing for at least a minute, held tight in pleasure. 

 

Then his hand moved, his fist gliding up and down my slicked member, his tongue on my earlobe, whispering the dirtiest, filthiest things to me, telling me all the horrid little dreams he’d ever had of me, the sick, perverted things he wanted to do to me, the hot, pleasurable tortures he had. I moaned at each one, limbs thick and heavy from the heat. I was so hot I could feel my sweat evaporating off my rippled muscles, my leg hitching over his hip, his hand still pumping and tugging, his thumb stroking my slit and milking me hard, almost pulling painful gasps from me. I wrapped him close to me, digging my nails in as his hand squeezed and slid, pumping and pumping until I was blinded with light and colours – I came so hard I thrust my head back and hit the side of the couch, the pain spiking the pleasure to a whole new level. Bob’s lips kissed my lips gently, nipping the skin as he cupped the head of my member, catching the milky hot seed, smoothing it over my weakening member, still stroking, caressing, taking advantage of the ringing flood of nerves impulses shooting my brain with sensations – I was aware of everything, his breath on my face, his scent, the taste of blood on my lip, with feel of his body pressing against mine. 

 

It was so hot I could barely breath as he moved down my body, kissing a line until he reached my member, licking me clean and tasting my cum greedily. I pulled him back up and kissed him forcefully, rolling him over as the pressure in my groin ebbed away but the desire flooded back in – I had to have him, right there, right now. 

 

“Fuck me, Bob, fuck me until I scream,” I begged, pulling his body up and kissing him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide as he looked at me. Naked, sweating, begging to be fucked hard. 

 

“R-really?”

 

I replied with a kiss, brushing my chest against his, the hot skin stinging his. 

 

“Yes. Now,” I demanded, my legs either side of his hips, rubbing our members together gently. He nodded, grinning, and kissing me excitedly. He pushed me up, off of him and scrambled to his feet. He grabbed his jeans and shoved them on quickly, his hands shaking with frenzied excitement as he rushed. I stood up and pulled him into a hug, kissing him. 

 

“Relax,” I shushed him, taking both his hands and kissing him. He nodded and kissed me again, the millionth kiss of a five second departure. 

 

“I love you,” he promised, and I knew he meant it. He opened the studio door a crack, slipped out and came back a few seconds later, grinning and shutting the door quickly. A burst of cold air brushed over my boiling skin, making me gasp for air. I pulled him back into my arms, grinning as he held up the tube of lubrication. 

 

“Why do you have that?” I asked, licking my lips. He shrugged innocently. 

 

“You never know who might snap to their senses and beg to be fucked hard on the studio floor,” he giggled, as I pushed his jeans back off his wonderful arse. My eyebrow shot up, a smirk coming onto my face. 

 

“Oh really? Presumptuous!” I giggled. He made a face, teasing me with his hand on my arse, pinching it saucily. 

 

“Not really – Frank wasn’t interested,”

 

I hmphed, sticking my nose in the air. “Bitch,”

 

He didn’t say anything, just leaned forward and kissed my cheek, moving his lips to my neck, finding the weak spot on my neck where I just melted into him. “Actually, babe, you’re the bitch,” he whispered, his hands holding me up as I practically fell into him. We moved to the floor again, kissing gently, hands moving over bodies again. Curving hips, tracing muscles, squeezing and caressing, loving and memorising. 

 

“Why am I the bitch?” I demanded as Bob rolled me onto my back and proceeded to suck my neck again, his hands wandering over my hot body. 

 

“Cos you’re the one who begged to be fucked,” he replied smartly, smirking as he moved down my chest. My response was cut off as his lips met my nipple, sucking so hard my retort came out as a ‘nuuahhh!’.

 

My back arched off the floor as he sucked and nipped and licked my nipples, his hands rubbing my lower stomach and hips, burning desire into me again, until I was so hard I was straining for his touch, a release only he could give me. In one fluid motion, he lifted me off the ground and turned us over, sitting beneath me and kissing me sweetly. My hands rested on his shoulders, my hips straddling him, cowgirl style. His hips moved in rhythm, pushing me up and down, his member brushing against the base of mine, sending bolts of lust through me, shortening my breath, lacing my sweat with his scent. 

 

“Fuck me…” I moaned as his teeth grazed my neck. He didn’t respond, he just lifted me up, spreading my legs further, pushing me back until I was laid bare to him. Flush crept over my skin as he looked and touched gently, fingers running over one of the most intimate places of my body. 

 

“You’re tight, babe, this could hurt. It will,” he told me. I heard the disappointment in his voice, he wanted this worse than I did, he wanted this so badly. 

 

“Don’t care…” I moaned, leaning my head against the couch. “Please,” I begged him, my lover, my everything. His joy was obvious, his gentle movements as he coated my entrance with lube, smoothing the cool gel into me, kissing my available skin softly, telling me how much he loved me, how much he adored me. I soaked it up like a greedy child – I carved his love as much as I carved his kisses.  

 

I felt his soft, caring hands move my body back, positioning me carefully. I rose to meet his lips again, hunger building up again, pressure between us bubbling to a boil as I battled his tongue for dominance, one of his hands going back to my straining member and the other pushing against my entrance, waiting for me to let him start. I surprised him pushing my body roughly down onto his finger, and gasping as he entered me. It felt so fucking _good_. 

 

Our kiss grew hotter, more intense as we moaned and sucked on each other’s lips, biting and warring our tongues together, his fingers moving in and out in time with his pumps of my cock, my hands were useless on his shoulders, lost in shuddering pleasure. After a minute of pure enjoyment, he pushed another fingertip against my entrance, making me moan deeply, out of unfamiliarity as well as deep, deep need. 

He eased them in slowly, heightening my pleasure until I moaned low, rumbling out of my throat, clinging to him. I wasn’t used to it, it stretched me uncomfortably but I relaxed slowly, with his kisses, and grew to enjoy the movement of his digits moving in and out of my entrance. Sweat dripped off our bodies, staining the carpet beneath us and filling the air with our toxic moans, our joined desire. My head pounded with the sensations of it all – I could barely bear it without moaning his name over and over. 

 

My one love. 

 

Soon, he began to push those fingertips apart, making me hiss low and long, biting down on his neck as he scissored, loosening me up before adding another finger into me, pushing deeper into me, swirling, caressing, finger-fucking me senseless as all I could do was collapse against him, panting, throbbing with every single movement of his hand. 

 

“Ready?”

 

His voice barely penetrated my head, too full of my internal voice squealing in pleasure, begging for more, all the bitch’s words I didn’t let escape my throat. I nodded quickly wanting more, needing more. I felt him withdraw, and moaned from the loss, but felt something else, felt his hips move to push the tip of his member against me. It was cool from fresh lube lathered on, leaking pre cum against my entrance, probing me carefully. He was easing me down onto him, trying to make it easy. I couldn’t deal with it, it wasn’t enough, not yet, not fast enough to slake the lust gushing through my veins. I pushed down with all my might, forcing him into me in such a powerful slide, stretching, penetrating me to my core – I was screaming in blind pleasure or pain from it. I felt him clench next to me, his nails digging into my back. 

 

“Fuck!” he moaned over my cries – my stained, dirty cries of pure, undiluted moans and pants. He pulled out of me gently, then pushed back into, the friction building up so much sexual tension in my body, I coiled in a muscled spring of heat and lust – I grunted heavily into him, gripping him harder than was comfortable for him, blood springing around my nails. He pushed out again, gently thrusting in and out until I cried out for more, harder, faster, deeper! I had to feel all of him, more, all of it! I could take it, give it to me!

 

“Please! Please! More, God, more!” I screamed, calling his name, screaming my desire to him. “Please, Bob, please!” I begged. He growled, a deep low pure moan of lust, before slamming into me so hard white light burst across my vision – he’d hit my spot so hard I couldn’t see, I could barely breath!

 

“ _Fuck yes!”_  

 

He withdrew swiftly, almost all the way out, pushing my body up against the leather, and then pushed so deep into me he hit it again, harder – I was dumb with pleasure, my ears falling deaf to my own screams of pleasure, my own babbled pleads for more, more, more!

 

_“Yes! Yes! Oh fuck Bob, more!”_

 

Again, again, again, Bob pulled out of me and smashed us together so hard my vision was useless, my spot exploding with pure waves of pleasure every single thrust, as he fucked me harder and harder, pulling and squeezing my cock in perfect time. Lips graced over sweating skin, salt mingling with begging words of desire, teeth grazing spots of muted pleasure, his cock breaking me into two equally whole pieces – both of which yearned from him, loved him, screamed for him when he went faster and faster and faster, rocking back and forward, fucking me so hard that when I came, holding it until the point was lost in the world shattering explosion of pleasure he slammed into me with – I came so hard I couldn’t feel anything at all – just a huge  surge of my orgasm tingling through every single nerve. 

 

I collapsed against him, exhausted, stinking of sweat and shaking from it all, as he rolled back onto the floor, sweat dripping off our bodies. His cock was still inside me as we lay entwined on the floor, panting, moaning, whispering each other’s names. His kissed my forehead lovingly and held me close, gently pulling himself out of me – he’d come even harder than I had, pushed over by the vice like grip of my muscles around his member. 

 

Skin blistered in the heat of the studio, the filth lost in the love between us, the passion still floating through our veins. I wrapped my arms lovingly around my lover, pushing my lips again his as my body melted into his, limbs forgotten in the mutual heat, fatigue draining us of feeling. All I knew was I was fucked senseless, and I wouldn’t be able to sit for days – and I was happy. Filled. Complete. 

 

“I love you Bob, thank you so much,” I whispered, holding either side of his beautiful blonde head, gazing into his gorgeous blue eyes. He nibbled his lip ring and smiled, eyes glittering. 

 

“I love you Ray, you’re everything to me,” he whispered, pushing his sweet lips against mine. I laid my head on his shoulder and soon we felt the heat drain away, too tired to move. I heard him whistle through his teeth, giggling. 

 

“I was just thinking how glad I am this box is soundproofed…Frank would probably kill us for waking him up again,” he giggled. I laughed.

 

“Most likely, he’s a total bitch,”

 

He giggled again.

 

“What?” I asked, smiling. I was too tired to move, or even open my eyes. 

 

“Just thinking what his face’d look like if he walked in on us…”

 

I laughed again. “You think too much, babe…” I told him, squeezing him gently. A minute later, he laughed again, his fingers stroking my upper arm gently. 

 

“What?” I asked, bemused but incredibly tired.

 

“I was just thinking what could’ve happened if I’d forced you to talk about what was bothering you months ago!” he giggled, stroking my afro out of my eyes, kissing my forehead again, yawning. 

 

I smiled dreamily, slipping away. 

 

“Just imagine what the next time will be like then…” I whispered, before falling asleep on the man I loved. 

 

_Admit it, Toro, you’re in love._

 


End file.
